


Sad in a church

by orphan_account



Category: Mystic Messenger, Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Chruch, Eventual Smut, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mental Breakdown, Mental Illness, My First Fanfic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Religion, Smut, Spoilers, Tags Subject to Change, how does one tag, i feel bad, i heavent finished very route yet, mc is Tori casue I can't write MC for some reason, slight AU, sorry if i miss anythin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:54:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22265950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Tori (MC but I feel uncomfortable writing MC so Tori) has strong trauma relating to her childhood, she refuses to admit it to anyone. Years of neglect to her mental health finally begins to catch up, and she doesn't know how she can keep up her facade. She has to be there for everyone though, Saeran is still struggling and everyone else seems to need more help then her. Or is she simply trying to push it all down again. When Jihyun (V) holds the next R.F.A party next a church that brings up some bad thoughts, can she simply just push it down? Or does everyone notice Tori's been acting a little off.(Sorry this is my first published fanfic on here so it's not gonna be great but here I go! I also want to say I apologize if I make anyone uncomfortable, there's heavy reference to religion, church and child abuse in this so please be careful. I personally have never dealt with PTSD before so please if I get something wrong, feel free to call me out. Also load me up with criticism!!)
Relationships: 707 | Choi Luciel/Main Character, Choi Saeran/Main Character, Han Jumin/Main Character, Kang Jaehee/Main Character (Mystic Messenger), Kim Yoosung/Main Character, V | Kim Jihyun & Main Character, Zen | Ryu Hyun/Main Character
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	1. Bathrooms and parties

**Author's Note:**

> Again just a small warning for those sensitive to subjects surrounding religion and past abuse. I really don't want to accidentally hurt anyone! There are also non-con elements so be warned.  
> With that said please give be lots of feedback, much appreciated! Thanks for reading.

Being in a church made me uncomfortable…

As long as I can remember they’ve always caused me pain and that horrible sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I get antsy by the mere mention of one. My palms begin to sweat and I can feel the hair on the back of my neck stand on edge as goosebumps trail up my arm. Lungs constrict, mind swirling, thoughts racing. The hot feeling of the need to vomit swells in me, pushing me to the edge over and over, hoping that my body will finally pass out and let me rest… But it never does. I just shake, and cry and let my messy hair stick to wet mess of hot tears and saliva. Only feeling release when I get as far away as I can from the memories. Sometimes I can 't. Like some cruel being is forcing me to watch the worst moments of my life on repeat as I’m strapped helplessly down. 

As of this moment, I can feel my throat closing over as panic grips my body. Hiding in the last bathroom stall, as far away from the noise as possible. Had I realized Jihyun (V) had selected the venue for the new party right next to a church, I wouldn’t have bothered to attend. No one knows about my problems with church or religion. No one knows I’m spilling out the contents of my stomach into the toilet right now. I’m simply letting myself suffer in silence. I can’t be the one who has issues, we already have our hands full with Saeran and some of the others are still getting over the events from last year. I’ll wait for as long as I can, throwing up and trembling until my body doesn’t have enough energy to let me think anymore, but vomiting into the bowl for the third I hear the door to the bathroom click.

“Shit.” I mutter under my shaky breath. I’m exhausted at this point but I can feel another load piling up my throat getting dangerously close to falling out of my mouth. Hearing whoever just walked in shuffle around for a moment, before my eyes widen in shock. A loud thwack echoed throughout the bathroom. Glass splattering to the ground just outside my stall. The sound is so familiar it fills with me with another pang nausea. 

Anger. Bells. The swaying of my body. Smash. The sickening smell of blood. More anger. Heat. It’s so hot… Why won’t anybody help me. I chock. I can’t breath. Oh please god help me. God hear me please. The heat returns. My body can’t hold back. Bells. The smell, oh god the fucking smell. Get it out of me. Get. It. Out. Now.

I can’t see anything anymore. I can only feel the heat that resonates throughout my entire body. My eyes are closed, that’s why I can’t see. I just have to open them. Will myself to open my god damn eyes. When I finally do, I flinch for a moment seeing the same bright light from the bathroom ceiling above me. Then I hear the shuffling continues. A quite irritated whisper before rushed steps and a slam of the door leading in. I breathe out. I was holding my breath the whole time. How long did I close my eyes for? It felt like hours. But that person, who were they? Glass. That’s right, I think they broke the mirror. But before I can think any further my mind snaps back to the previous moments, it finally consumes me as I have an empty my stomach one last time. I'm completely void of any food now. 

Sweat still trickled down my forehead as collapsed on the floor, back hunched over as I curl up into a ball. The sick feeling still lingering in me. The smell still holding me down as I trembled and rocked back and forth for comfort. Why is this happening again? How did I even get to the bathroom? What was I doing before this? I’m at the R.F.A party, when I arrived I- oh yeah, the church. I gripped my stomach as it twisted in fear. The party. The boys. Think about them for a moment. You can’t ruin this for them. Don’t be so selfish.

Still shaking, I use my hand as balancing pressing against the wall of the stall. My knees can barley hold me up and this fucking heels aren’t helping.

_ “Such unattractive language, a lady should not say such things. Then again, do even deserve such a title? Hm, Tori?” _

I murmur a soft sorry into the empty bathroom subconsciously. Still tormenting me to this day I see. I shouldn't dwell on this. Get cleaned up and make sure everyone is doing okay. This is only Saeran’s third party. I hope this isn’t too much for him. Finally flushing to toilet and slowly making my way out of the small stall, I hear a crunch under my heel. 

Gasping as I remember the sound of glass smashing. The mirror is broken. I carefully dodge the splattering of sharp fragments and land in front an untouched section. Everything in this bathroom seemed to bright. White checkered floors with similar walls, shiny metal sinks all completely spotless. The speckled glass pieces on the floor seemed to make everything reflect more light. Just hold on a little longer. I grip the sides of the sink, if it were a person I’d surely have made them bleed. Looking into unbroken mirror I first notice the smear of my makeup, then the tangle of my hair from gripping and pulling at it. Sweat trickles down my forearms far too obvious for my liking.

The dress I wore had small remnants of regurgitated food lingering on it's front. It wasn't pretty, and the sweat stains just made the whole thing look more snafued. I stared trembling into the mirror. My only thoughts of the person looking back at me was dread. 

_ “Tch, what a failure! To think you are my daughter… get yourself cleaned up before father arrives. He’ll get angry if he sees you!” _

I quickly turn the facut on and duck my head under the steady stream. Sucking in a sharp breath as the water finally hits my face, I mumble out “I’m so sorry mum.” into the warm air. My mind was thick with regret and painful thoughts, but I can’t leave. Their relying on me. Leaving would make me a bad person, and I know they've endured much worse for me. Maybe I should be selfish for once though... Maybe I should just go home and eat ice cream, watch TV and- No! God fucking dammit, I'll just fix my dress and clean my face. I'll be as good as new!

What was probably something of 40 minutes, I finally scrubbed of the last of the vomit,sweat and smudged makeup. Leaving only a blank and dreary face. 

More deep breaths and forceful resist of intrusive thoughts, I slammed my palms against the edge of the sink and reached down to hold my dress up a little to avoid stepping on it. Doing my best to look graceful and not fresh out of a meltdown I pushed open the bathroom door. A wave of anxiety hit me as I stepped through the crowd. The large room was a similar color scheme to the bathrooms. White everywhere. A blinding bright chandelier hung low from the intricately painted ceiling, the art was that looked straight out the Sistine Chapel. I unintentionally gagged a little noticing the god like theme of it. Shit not again. I swallowed deeply as I forced my way through crowds of people wearing fancy gowns and expensive tuxedos all of them indulging in the many tables of endless food. All the tables were lined gracefully with trims and flowers giving the room and very graceful vibe. However what made me so uncomfortable, was the masks.

Every guest are adorned with strange creature like masks meant to represent your soul animal. Feathers and jewels were decked upon them to accent the expensive room. I couldn't tell who anyone was, and the room was still spinning. That’s when I stopped moving, I’m rooted to the spot. I felt like I was directly in the center of the enormous ball room. People pushed past me and I received strange looks for not wearing a mask like the others. No one approached me, thankfully, but I felt trapped. Stuck in the never ending nightmare of people and memories. My own mind was killing me. At any moment I felt my legs would give way and allow me to crumble into a ball on the floor

But that’s when I felt a strong hand tug against my hand, grasping it tightly. I almost didn't realize I was being pulled across the room as I relieved in the cool relief of, what I assumed was, the man's rigid hand. 


	2. Whoops

Quarantine is letting me have time to write! I might actually update this now, woah righ? It's not like it's been almost five months since I even touched this story... hehe. 


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